


Fool in Love

by TheMewsAtTen



Category: The Halcyon (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arguing, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Insecurity, Jealousy, M/M, Sulking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-21 01:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11933805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMewsAtTen/pseuds/TheMewsAtTen
Summary: Lady Hamilton's matchmaking results in Adil receiving some attention - and Toby isn't handling it well . . .I see this taking place after D'Aberville spots Adil leaving Toby's room, but before the blackmail/threats plot really ramps up.The Halcyon and these characters aren't mine, no copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made from this.





	1. Chapter 1

“Toby, you will _try_ to be civil tonight, won't you?” 

Lady Hamilton stood at her mirror, comparing two pairs of earrings against the golden silk of her gown. Putting on one pair while tossing the other dismissively onto her dressing table, she peered at Toby in the glass. “I know you dislike these dinners, darling, but please try. I truly can't imagine how else you’re ever going to meet . . . people.”

 _Ah yes. ‘People’. Of course,_  thought Toby. “Yes mother. I'll be charm personified,” he drawled.

“Well, let’s aim for not openly hostile to start with, shall we?” she replied waspishly. “Are we ready?”

Toby stood up from his chair, nodding stiffly to his mother, who immediately straightened his bow tie. Toby rolled his eyes. He knew he had a talent for looking scruffy and askew that set him apart from the other members of his immediate family. It was one of the many things about him that had proven a deep disappointment to his parents. 

Toby escorted his mother out of the Royal Suite, into the lift and down to the hotel bar. _After all, it wouldn't do for Her Ladyship to have to go anywhere in public without at least one attentive male dangling off her,_ he thought sourly. Even though the atmosphere between Toby and Mr D'Aberville had inevitably been fraught since D'Aberville had spotted Adil leaving Toby's room, at times like this he was forced to admit that the man was useful, if only for drawing his mother's socialite fire from time to time.

But in the absence of his mother's new catch - drawn away on business this evening, apparently - it was generally accepted that Toby would have to suffice.

As he walked into the already lively bar, his gaze darted across the room, seeking out Adil instinctively. 

Adil looked up as he poured champagne into a glass, a quirk at the corner of his mouth the only sign he had seen Toby. If he hadn't spent long evenings lovingly cataloguing all of Adil’s expressions, Toby would not have discerned that he had noticed him at all. Adil was always so careful, and Toby understood why, but it still broke his heart a little every time he had to bite back the urge to go to him; to hold him and touch him and kiss him. 

As always, the sight of Adil gave him a delicious swooping feeling in his stomach. He could still feel the ache, the glorious burn of the earth-shattering things that Adil had done to him just that morning. He watched him shaking a cocktail in a sidelong stare he hoped to God was sufficiently discrete. Moving as he worked, competent and elegant in the jacket of his uniform, the memory of Adil's taut, defined stomach muscles bucking under his hand as Toby licked and sucked at his cock made Toby's mouth water and his fingers tingle with need.

Toby chided himself mentally. For the sake of his reputation - not to mention his sanity - it was vital that he didn't let himself think about that right now. 

“Elspeth!” his mother suddenly shrieked beside him, pulling him out of his reverie.

“Oh, Priscilla, how _are_ you?!”. A pinched-looking middle-aged woman dripping in jewellery was crooning back unnecessarily loudly from just a few feet away, dragging in her wake a girl who was practically her younger doppelganger. The girl wore a manic smile and a vacant expression, and Toby paused to wonder just how many times he had played his part in this same humiliating performance over the years in the never-ending campaign to placate his parents. It was all so eerily, depressingly familiar. His heart sank at the thought of having to do it all once again.

“Elspeth, you remember my son, Toby? Toby, this is Mrs Elspeth Farnbury. Elspeth, the last time you met my sons I believe they were still in the nursery! Toby has been doing some extremely involved work for the War Office that I don't pretend to understand . . ."

 _You don't pretend to be interested either, Mother,_ Toby amended silently.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Farnbury,” said Toby, proffering his right hand to the fawning woman and blushing profusely, the way he always did when forced to meet new people - especially when the meeting was so obviously orchestrated to throw him into the path of some well-heeled girl or other.

“Of course, it's so good to see you, Toby,” bellowed Mrs Farnbury like a very well-turned-out foghorn. "May I introduce my daughter, Mary?”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mary,” said Lady Hamilton.

“A pleasure indeed,” concurred Toby with another handshake, remembering his mother’s pleas for his civility and deciding it would ultimately be easier to comply mechanically.

Mary laughed heartily as she shook his hand, before taking an enormous gulp of the brightly coloured liquid that was sloshing around in the cocktail glass clasped precariously between her perfectly manicured fingers.

Toby turned to his mother, who looked glowingly at Mary before giving him the pointed, loaded glare that he knew so well. _Entertain her_ , it said. _Charm her, and don't embarrass me_. 

Toby regarded Miss Farnbury's hopeful, drink-flushed face with trepidation as his mother and Mrs Farnbury wandered off, Mrs Farnbury moving on to what was obviously considered a much more interesting subject - the dynamic new Lord Freddie Hamilton and his valiant exploits with the Air Force in the name of King and Country. Toby felt frustrated with himself; ashamed to be thinking so uncharitably about his brother. Freddie hadn't asked for any of this any more than Toby himself had.

Dinner was one of the longest, most awkward experiences of his life - and that, he reflected, was quite a list to top. Mary had prattled her way through every course, and was now shadowing Toby at his usual spot by the bar, regaling him at increasing volume on trivial subjects in a way that so many other girls had done so many times before. _At least the bloody sirens have stayed quiet,_ Toby thought, blocking out the sound of her voice, _though how we'd hear them over the caterwauling of Farnburys is anyone’s guess_.

He was, as usual, yearningly aware of how close he was to Adil when he sat here. He kept finding himself distracted by Adil's hands as they worked, gracefully and skilfully. Graceful, skilful, like the way they ran over Toby’s cheeks when they kissed, the way they undressed him slowly, the way they stroked Toby’s cock so expertly, the way the fingers dug into Toby’s shoulders as he thrusted into Adil’s warm, lithe, pliant body . . .

“Toby? Toby? My goodness, you were quite _miles_ away!” shrieked Mary with a laugh when she got his attention again, prodding at his arm and stumbling towards him.

“Oh, yes, I'm so sorry, I'm afraid it's been rather a long day . . .”

“I'm sure. Mr Joshi here tells me he’s from _India_ ,” he looked up at Adil, who looked awkward and sheepish. “How terribly _exotic_ , don't you think?” 

Something in her tone both chilled and irritated Toby, but he couldn't quite seem to name it.

When Adil leaned over to retrieve a cloth that had fallen to the floor, hot rage speared Toby’s insides as Mary raised her eyebrows and bit her lip lasciviously, openly staring at his behind.

Toby was suddenly overcome with the need to stand between her and Adil. He knew he had to move away before he said or did something regrettable. Something _inexplicable_. 

“Would you excuse me for a moment Miss Farnbury I must speak with my mother,” he said in one breath, fleeing from the bar before she could respond, too nimbly for her to follow, especially in the state she was in.

Toby approached his mother thunderously. “Mother, could I speak to you for a moment please?”

“Really Toby, now?! Can't it wait?” she had been festooned with rich guests and clearly wasn’t looking to be disturbed.

“I'm afraid not.”

Lady Hamilton sighed. “Very well, then.”

“Mother, I believe Miss Farnbury is quite drunk!” Toby ground out under his breath, turning Lady Hamilton aside so they wouldn’t be overheard.

“A little hypocritical, wouldn't you say, Toby?” she replied sharply, just as a piercing laugh came from the direction of the bar, causing several guests to peer over in interest. 

Both Lady Hamilton and Toby watched as Mary laughed uproariously again, Adil smiling at her timidly as she reached to finger the cuff buttons of his jacket. Toby felt his hands tingle again, but this time the feeling was hot and unpleasant, and he found himself becoming dizzy in a way he was sure was unrelated to the champagne he had taken.

“Yes, OK. Perhaps it would be prudent to have Elspeth have a discrete word. It would hardly do to have a young girl of that breeding make a fool of herself. Or us. Honestly, Toby, I thought you'd have this much under control at least . . .” Lady Hamilton hissed as she strode off across the dance floor to accost Mrs Farnbury.

In the interim, Mary had graduated to leaning ever more provocatively over the bar, running her finger over the rim of her glass, her other hand fiddling with a pendant that hung perilously close to her very visible cleavage, clearly inviting Adil’s gaze. When Adil smiled warmly at the stupid girl, Toby felt sick, and as Adil looked over and caught his eye, Toby looked away petulantly and stormed out of the bar into the foyer. 

Rushing through the door, he narrowly avoided running headlong into Emma. 

“I'm afraid I’m feeling unwell, Emma, could you let my mother know I'm turning in now? I’d prefer not to be disturbed," he called behind him as he marched past her towards the stairs.

“Toby? Are you OK? Do you need anything?” Emma called up to him as he went.

“Thank you no, just some rest,” he answered without stopping.

As soon as Toby got to his room, he slammed the door behind him and dropped to the floor with his head in his hands, furious at himself for the tears he could feel pricking his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adil's having none of it - short chapter of angst, sorry!

Adil had rarely felt so relieved to finish a shift. It had been a particularly awful evening, and he had no idea where Lady Hamilton managed to dredge up such an endless supply of tedious, noisy rich people. He admired Toby’s resilience; the way he put up with so much of that kind of company without losing his mind.

But he had definitely been very upset about something when he went up earlier. Adil hadn't been able to think clearly for worry since then. He was desperate to get up to Toby's room to find out exactly what had got him so rattled. To make it OK, if he could.

They had to be so extremely careful, always, and it killed Adil, even if he avoided saying so to Toby. The fact was, for all that it was difficult and dangerous and frustrating, it was worth every moment. Toby was worth every moment, and Adil didn't want to give him the slightest reason to think he felt otherwise.

Poor Toby. He'd been working long, hard shifts too, and Adil wondered if that, coupled with the strain of sneaking around, was starting to tax Toby more than he was admitting.

And then, of course, there had been getting caught out by Mr D’Aberville. Adil was fastidious about scanning the corridors, being absolutely certain that no-one saw him come to Toby, and that no-one saw him leave. It had certainly been unbelievably bad luck that Mr D’Aberville had happened to be there, had happened to see him leaving that day. But Adil still felt enormous guilt for being so complacent. It mustn't happen again, for Toby’s sake even more than his own.

He did always have an excuse to hand in case of emergency - he needed to take something to Mr Hamilton, he’d been asked to clear something from his room, he’d been given a message that he was to carry to Mr Hamilton discretely - anything even vaguely believable that would explain why he was hovering around. And had it just been Adil leaving Toby’s room that day, it probably _would_ have stood up to explanation. But he had - so, so foolishly - reached up to stroke Toby’s cheek when he had handed him his watch in the corridor. It was a bloody stupid, naive thing to do, and the tenderness, the meaning of the gesture would have been unmistakable.

Part of him wished Toby had done what Adil had asked him to at the time and told D’Aberville that Adil was a deviant and a nuisance. But he knew, even as he voiced the suggestion, that Toby would never even have considered such a thing. It was utterly beneath him. He was too good, too principled for that.

Adil satisfied himself that the corridor was deserted before tapping Toby’s door, more out of habit than anything. Toby had asked him not to, many times. He was wonderful like that, always concerned with closing as many of the ridiculous, unjust gaps between them as possible. He had been determined to make Adil feel relaxed and happy in this room; the room where they kissed and touched and made love. Adil thought it was thoroughly _Toby_ to want to create a comfortable place for them both, safe from the rest of the world, a world where he knew Toby always felt alert and anxious and strange. But if someone saw him barging into Mr Hamilton’s room without knocking . . .

Adil came into the room to find Toby lying on his bed, fully clothed apart from his shoes (which had been abandoned on the floor) and his jacket (which was strewn carelessly over a chair). He looked pale, his eyes were red and puffy and he was fiddling with his signet ring compulsively.

“Are you alright?” asked Adil quietly.

“Yes. Why wouldn't I be alright? Do I _look like_ I'm not alright?” asked Toby shortly, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“You look done in, Toby. And you seemed very upset when you left the bar. I’ve been worrying about you all night, I haven't been able to think of anything else.”

“Really? I rather thought the colourful and gregarious Miss Farnbury had succeeded in commanding your undivided attention . . .”

“What?!” asked Adil, incredulous.

“What do you mean ‘what’?! She was all over you! Pawing at you and flashing her, her _assets_ at you,” Toby sneered.

“Toby, what? Assets? You can't be . . . are you . . . _jealous_?” asked Adil, trying not to grin. And failing.

“No,” said Toby defensively. “No . . that . . . not at all, that’s absolutely _not_ what this is about! If you want to flirt with the guests I suppose I can’t do much to stop you . . .”

“Flirt with the . . . now hang on, Toby . . .” said Adil, hurt.

“I mean, I suppose I just thought the way you were smiling and moping all over her was a bit . . . _unprofessional_.”

Adil felt like he'd been slapped. Words seemed to bubble up in his throat. “ _Unprofessional_?! You know, Toby, I don't _want_ to be polite to those horrendous people your mother gathers together at these dinners. It’s my _job_. I don't _like_ that people like that girl tonight think my duties extend to answering her invasive questions about where my family is from, or letting her touch me, or letting her dangle everything over the bar. But it’s my _job_. And I know that if I’d stood there looking sullen or pulled away or made a fuss when she started clawing at me I’d be being dressed down by Mr Garland or Emma or even your own mother right now for being, as you put it, _unprofessional_. I really don't see how I can win, and to make it worse, you think I would even consider, when I feel about you the way I do . . . Perhaps _you_ can tell me what I should do? You’re you, after all - you're _Toby Hamilton_. And, well, maybe you're right, maybe I am unprofessional. I suppose sneaking up here so I can steal time with you, because I’m so in love with you I would risk _everything_ just to hold you in my arms whenever I can, is quite unprofessional. Do you honestly think it isn't torture for me watching girl after girl trying to get you to marry her? Well I can't give you what they could . . . perhaps someone with more choices than me would make you happier. Someone with more freedom, someone you have more in common with . . .”

“Adil, I’m sorry, I shouldn't have . . . Christ, please don't say that, please . . .”

“I can’t talk about this right now. It’s been a long evening. I’m going to do the _professional_ thing and leave now. Goodnight, _Mr Hamilton_.”

“Adil, please . . .” Toby sobbed weakly as Adil walked out and closed the door behind him.

He looked down at the floor and left The Halcyon at a march, determined to avoid making a terrible night any worse by having to speak to anyone else for the rest of it.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been four days since their argument. Toby felt hollowed out with loneliness; he missed Adil’s voice whispering in his ear, his kisses, drifting into sleep feeling him lying naked next to him. He missed all of it so much his heart was raw.

But it was the fact that he had _hurt_ Adil that tormented him more than anything else. And even if Adil hated him, even if, given the choice, he’d never lay eyes on him again, Toby still wanted more than anything to go back and change it; to _unhurt_ him.

When he replayed that night in his mind, he almost wished Adil had shouted, had been wild with fury at him. But, of course, that wasn’t Adil. He never shouted. He had said what he had said quietly, calmly - _perhaps someone with more choices than me would make you happier_ \- and the chilling placidity of it all made it sound like he meant it, like he thought anyone but him could ever make Toby’s life bearable. He had sounded more crushed than angry.

Toby had made Adil feel sad, and shame and guilt were gnawing at him in a place that even enthusiastically overdoing the whisky after work just couldn't touch.

Adil had got it all right, of course he had. Toby’s jealousy had turned him into someone he didn't want to be. He hadn’t thought Adil was being unprofessional. He could never think that. It wasn’t true, to begin with. In fact it was absurd. But it was certainly true that he had never stopped to think, to really consider, how difficult it must sometimes be for Adil to deal with those people all the time, to deal with their _relationship_ , even to watch Toby’s mother’s ceaseless matchmaking, and still remain so open, so warm, so understanding.

Toby had been jealous because Mary Farnbury had been touching Adil, her covetous eyes raking him up and down for everyone to see. But, Toby realised, it wasn’t even about that. He could understand her flirting with Adil; he had been the most beautiful thing in that room, of course she wanted him. And Toby knew damn well, in his bones and in Adil’s eyes and in the memory of his touch and the feel of the marks that he’d left on his skin when they had made love that morning, that Adil wasn’t remotely interested in her.

The horrible truth was that Toby was jealous because she had reminded him of everything he couldn't have. Everything he couldn't do, couldn't get away with because of who and what he was.

He had sat in the bar last night, reading, getting drunk and increasingly self-pitying, and watching for the slightest sign that Adil was pining for him, that he missed him.

Adil betrayed nothing.

Even their very occasional transactions over the bar were perfunctory. _Professional_ , Toby thought, feeling sick. He could tell that Adil was deliberately avoiding being there to pour his drinks, to talk to him, finding reasons - restocking the bar, clearing tables - to avoid being the one to deal with him.

The book Toby was reading had been reduced to nothing more than a prop. He had read the same sentence over and over again, trying to concentrate but failing as his gaze kept getting pulled to Adil. Even in his desperate state, longing just to be held by Adil and to feel safe again, Toby still couldn't stop thinking about the body under that uniform, his hands, his lips, the way he kissed so timidly before eventually losing control, the way his hands tried to grab all of Toby all at once when his carefully cultivated restraint inevitably broke, his arms and his chest and his throat, the way he threw his head back in pleasure, fisting the bedsheets and whimpering . . .

So, by the fifth day, Toby’s agony meant he found himself lurking around the staff passage behind the back bar, waiting to catch Adil alone, bursting with the memory of the first time they had kissed, his eyes rooted to the very spot in the store where it had happened.

As Adil eventually emerged into the back bar to collect some gin, Toby screwed up his courage. “Adil?”

Adil, his back to Toby, tensed visibly and sighed. “Yes, Mr Hamilton?” he asked, rearranging bottles, not looking around.

“Adil, please speak to me.”

“I have to work. It's busy right now.”

"I need to see you. I need to speak to you. Please, will you come to me later?”

“I'm . . . not sure that's a good idea.”

“Please, Adil. I . . there are things I need to say.”

Adil turned to look at him, and Toby saw his face soften instantly. “God, Toby, you look . . . are you OK?” he asked, the chilly tone of a moment ago melting again into the warm, soothing concern that was so familiar to Toby. Belatedly he realised that five days of barely any sleep and drowning his sorrows must have left him looking more of a fright than he’d appreciated.

Toby felt his eyes fill with tears. As Adil made to reach out to him they heard footsteps approaching down the passageway, and Adil’s hands snapped down to his sides. “If you're asking me to come to you, I'll come.” he whispered, the ghost of a reassuring smile tugging at his mouth, his eyes sparkling.

"I'm asking you to come to me. Please.”

“Then that's what I'll do.”

“Thank you” said Toby, turning on his heel and making for the stairs.


	4. Chapter 4

Adil sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, a wistful smile playing on his lips. Here he was, at Toby’s door again. Always at Toby’s door. 

There was never going to be any point in trying to deny Toby. It would be easier to carve out his own heart.

The usual knock was followed by the usual muffled sound of Toby’s voice, and Adil slipped inside, remembering, as he always did, to lock the door as he closed it behind him. Whatever the circumstances, it wouldn't do to be careless. 

“Toby?” he called. 

“In here.”

Adil walked into the bathroom doorway. The sight that greeted him took his breath away.

_Oh you're clever, my love. My clever, clever Toby . . ._

Toby was lying back in his huge bath, his head tilted slightly, exposing his throat, looking directly, unflinchingly at Adil, His pale skin was flushed with heat and his hair was damp and messy. 

_You know how to bring me to my knees_ , thought Adil.

“Please forgive me, Adil.”

“I can't remember what I was angry about right now,” whispered Adil, transfixed by Toby’s body.

“I _was_ jealous,” Toby said flatly, not moving a muscle.

“Yes.”

“Not because I thought you wanted her. Not because I thought you were encouraging her. But because she can do it, can’t she? Get drunk and flirt with you and touch you and allow herself to be driven crazy by you and the worst that will happen is that she’ll embarrass herself and people will think she’s a rich, drunken flirt. I can’t. I can't do any of that. I can’t reach out to touch your wrist or sit at the bar grinning at you all night. Because the worst that could happen is worse by far. And I want to, because I love you and I want so much for everyone to know you're mine. That the beautiful man behind the bar is the man I love. And that’s why I’m jealous. She’s free to do what I can’t.”

“Say that again . . .” Adil said, his eyes filling with tears.

“She’s free to do what I can’t?” answered Toby, looking confused.

“Not that. Say you love me. Tell me I’m yours.”

“I love you, Adil. You’re mine.” 

“You seem so innocent, Toby. But you know exactly how to make me give in, don't you? You know how to make me beg. You know only too well that you’re every dream, every fantasy I’ve ever had. Toby. My Toby.” Adil purred slowly, smiling. Adil had never seen Toby seem so . . . powerful. Completely naked, looking hungrily at Adil still fully dressed in his uniform, he nevertheless seemed suddenly self-possessed. Dominant. Adil felt his knees weaken with the urge to submit to him.

“I love you, Toby. I _am_ yours,” Adil started unbuttoning his jacket deliberately slowly. “Everything, my heart and my body - yours. It's always right here, underneath all this,” he gestured vaguely to his clothes, “that never stops, it never goes away, everything is yours, only yours . . .”

Adil’s heart raced at the sight of what his words were doing to Toby; his blush had intensified, his pupils were so blown his eyes appeared black, his chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths and his knuckles were white where he clasped the sides of the bath as Adil peeled off his clothes.

“This is what you think about, isn't it? These clothes frustrate you, don't they? Just hiding what you want all the time. I feel your eyes on me in the bar, watching. I can feel you stripping me naked in your mind. A million rich fools could flirt with me at that bar but you know that this” Adil slipped off his vest one-handed in one graceful, fluid motion, exposing his torso, “every inch of this belongs to you.”

“God Adil . . .”

Adil removed his shoes and socks, his attention turning to his belt, which he began to unbuckle agonisingly slowly - so slowly Toby gave an audible moan as he watched him. 

“You ruined me for everyone else, Toby Hamilton. Every moment I'm thinking about where you are, how deeply in love I fell with you so quickly, how it felt to be kissed by you for the first time, your heat and your need, the feel of your mouth on my body, the feel of you inside me. I can't lay in bed anymore without wanting you next to me, can't go anywhere without seeing things that make me want to turn to you and tell you something. There's no forgetting you, even for a moment. You've ruined me, and nothing has ever made me happier.” 

Adil finally stood naked in front of Toby. He realised with surprise that Toby didn't look bashful or unsure the way he usually did when they were naked together. He was staring at Adil unapologetically. Bravely.

“Get in. Come here to me,” said Toby.

Toby settled Adil between his thighs, his back flush against Toby’s chest.  Adil didn’t attempt to stifle the groan of comfortable pleasure he felt as he lay back in the warm water, Toby’s teeth grazing his neck, his skilled fingers beginning to work at his tense, taut shoulders. Adil traced circles on Toby’s thighs, watching droplets of water moving over his beautiful skin.

“I didn’t mean what I said the other night,” Toby groaned, “I'm a stupid, selfish, possessive fool.”

“I knew you didn't mean it. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did,” Adil answered, grinding against Toby’s growing hardness. “Did you miss me, my love?” he asked teasingly, nuzzling into his touch.

He felt Toby nodding against his shoulder, gasping at the friction. “I’m pathetic without you. A mess.”

“You've never been pathetic. And you're the prettiest mess I've ever seen.”

“Letting that ridiculous Farnbury girl rile me up like that. That was pathetic.”

“She was very tactile. It was unpleasant, and I know your mother’s incessant matchmaking shreds your nerves at the best of times. I shouldn't have let it cause an argument. God it's been the worst five days of my life. I need you, Toby. I need you like I need air.”

“Nothing that happened the other night was your fault, Adil. None of it. I was completely in the wrong. It disgusts me that people behave like that and you have to put up with it. And I hate that you have to watch my mother’s machinations like that all the time. And then for me to say the things I said . . . most people would decide that was too much to be worth it.”

“I want you to be happy, Toby, you know that don’t you? Whatever that means for us. For me.”

“Adil?”

“Yes?”

“Please don't leave me. I can’t be happy without you.”

“For as long as you still want me, I'm still yours.”

“Stay tonight. Please stay. I need you with me tonight.”

“I'll have to leave early. And carefully.”

“Adil?”

“Yes?”

“Did you miss _me_?”

“So much.”

“Take me to bed and show me.”

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning for smutty fluff and fluffy smut.

Toby and Adil lay side by side on Toby’s bed, their bodies wrapped together, their heady, wet kisses the only sound to break the silence.

Toby pulled away, looking intently at Adil before dipping down to press kisses to his jawline. “You know, I realised I was in love with you when I found out about that bomb hitting that shelter. In Paddington. I had the most horrible feeling I’d lost you and I was terrified. I kept thinking about all the things I'd be willing to go through, what I'd do if only you could be OK. I'd never been so afraid. And then when I saw you were fine, you were still here . . .”

Adil touched his thumb to Toby’s bottom lip. “I think I was in love with you before I kissed you that first time. It seems strange, maybe, but you get to know people working a bar, and _you_ \- well, I’d never met anyone like you. Then when we were in the back bar that day and your hand was covering my mouth and then you smiled and it just hit me that I couldn’t think of anything I wouldn't do for you. Then you kissed me the next day and I felt like I'd die for you if you asked me to,” Adil kissed the palm of Toby’s hand, “and every day you do something new that makes me smile or you look at me across a room and I know it more and more. You understand that I get jealous, too, don't you? Quite a lot, actually. Those women your mother throws at you, they've got far more to offer you than I do. More than I'm ever likely to have. I can’t give you a marriage or wealth or children. And you’d be a wonderful father,” he smiled. “I want you to be happy, I’d ruin myself to make you happy, but that doesn't mean I don't get scared of losing you. It's only that you being unhappy scares me more . . .”

Adil hummed as Toby suddenly flipped him onto his back, pinning his wrists above his head and covering his mouth in hard, greedy kisses before propping himself up on his elbows to look into his eyes again. “You're the only thing I want. I don’t want anything or anyone if I can’t have _you_ ,” Toby ran his fingertips down Adil’s body, his hand coming to rest on his hipbone. He groaned at the feeling of Adil’s cock twitching between them, his words punctuated by the dipping of his hips, the friction leaving them both breathless, “I love . . . your body, Adil. I . . . love the way it . . . fits against mine. There's nothing . . . better in the world . . . than the sight of you, naked and . . . hard and . . . ready for me.”

Toby reached between them, taking Adil’s cock in his hand, falling into a rhythm he knew he loved.

“You have beautiful hands. Such beautiful hands. My beautiful Toby.”

“Do you like that?”

“You know I do. You know what I like. What I need. You _know_ me.”

Toby moved a hand to grip Adil’s arse, pulling him closer, canting his hips and deepening the friction between them as he grasped their cocks together. Adil scrambled to grab at Toby; at his back and his shoulders, Adil's groans and rambling praise choked off as Toby moved down his body to take him into his mouth, his hands clutching at Adil’s arse, his fingertips grazing delicately across his entrance.

“Please, please Toby . . .”

Toby’s breath always caught when Adil started to beg, his heart jolting with a feeling of pure love and exhilarating power. He already knew Adil, had learned his body well enough, to know what he was begging him for.

Toby reached deftly to the bedside table, and within seconds had pressed a lubricated finger ever so gently into Adil’s body, watching his face for any sign of pain or discomfort.

He had also learned that Adil sometimes liked things a bit rough. It was something they were still working out between them; Toby still a little nervous, anxious to avoid hurting him, still testing their limits together, even when Adil cried out for more, harder, rougher. But there was at least one thing Toby knew he had become very adept at . . .

“Oh, God, Toby, oh _God_ ,” Adil suddenly cried out as Toby curled his finger, grazing that spot inside him that always reduced him to a keening wreck.

"Shhh!” said Toby with a giggle.

"Toby, it really _isn’t_ easy to stay quiet when you do _that_ . . .”

Toby began to work a second finger into Adil, still smiling predatorily at him. “Is this OK?” he asked, moving his fingers slightly, feeling Adil’s body relaxing around his touch.

"Hmmm-mmm, Toby, I need more. I need you,” breathed Adil, as Toby watched, biting his lip at the sight of him fisting the bedclothes roughly, his face etched with his efforts to stay as quiet as possible. “Toby, please . . .”

“What do you want, Adil? Tell me. Say it.”

“I want you inside me, Toby, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Toby, now, please . . .”

As prepared as he could be, Toby lined himself up, pushing very gently, slowly into Adil’s body. Toby always seemed to find himself reverting a little to his usual shy cautiousness when they got to this point together. Adil’s vulnerability both aroused and terrified him; his own dizzying desire to thrust, to _take_ , doing battle with his need to care for Adil, to be gentle, to keep him safe.

Adil growled, gripping Toby’s hips to pull him deeper into himself.

“Be patient, I don't want to hurt you.”

“Please, Toby. I need it. I need it so badly.”

Toby paused when he was completely inside Adil, giving him a moment to get used to the sensation of being filled, taking his time to enjoy the look of sheer abandon on his face - capable, polished, pristine Adil Joshi on his bed, his hair unkempt, his body bare and open to Toby.

"Please move. God, Toby, please move. Feels so good, so big.”

Toby had been shocked at himself when he had first realised how much he adored the filthy things Adil said in bed, his body responding viscerally to the knowledge that it was _him_ who managed to tease out Adil’s fantasies, to make those words fall from his mouth in an unembarrassed torrent of pleasure, his hands struggling for Toby; for every part of him he could reach.

Toby began to move, wrapping Adil’s legs around his hips to angle his body so that he could find that spot inside him again. “I'm so in love with you, Adil. So in love with you. You're my whole world. I love being inside you,” mumbled Toby as he began to move faster and deeper. He found it impossible not to let his affection pour from him like this when they made love. Fortunately it only ever seemed to make Adil want more.

Adil bit his lip to muffle his own cries as Toby thrusted deeply once, twice, three times, reaching down to stroke Adil’s cock as he moved inside him. Within seconds, Adil was coming in powerful spurts that wracked his body and brought tears to his eyes, repeating Toby’s name like a prayer.

Toby never lasted long after watching Adil come undone like that, and soon he was whimpering, seizing Adil’s hips as he came inside him with a cry of ecstasy he vaguely registered that he should probably have had the presence of mind to suppress. “Love you, God, I love . . . love you, Adil.”

They lay in a tangle of limbs and sweat and heaving breaths for a few moments, before Adil got up, coming back to clean them both up before wrapping himself up in Toby again. Adil was so good at that, thought Toby - at taking care of him. Toby always felt at his most vulnerable when the sex was over and his restless mind began to worry again.

“Adil?”

"Hmm?”

“Do you think things will ever be different? Better? For us, I mean. For people like us?”

"Maybe. I hope so. Time changes things. War definitely changes things. Twenty five years ago you'd still have been at the mercy of your family, far more than you are, anyway. You're a successful, brilliant man making his own way in the world. You're going to have choices. I wish I could give you a better world, Toby. Maybe one day two people just like us will be able to have the world together.”

“Would you like to have the world with me?”

Adil turned to look at Toby. “We’ll be together, Toby. We’ll find a way because we’re meant to. I believe that. No-one will ever convince me that I wasn't made for you. That you aren't what every part of my life so far has been leading me to.”

Toby still knew there were a hundred ways this could end in disaster - diligent staff, nosy guests, curious workmates, his own mother, a badly timed raid - but tonight he was ready to believe, to convince himself it wouldn't happen, if it meant he got to lie in Adil’s arms for a few hours.

Toby fell asleep to the sound of Adil humming a tune, resting his head on his chest. _This is it_ , he thought. _Whatever happens, this is it. Me and you. It’s home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left kudos and notes of encouragement, it really does just make me so happy and determined to improve!


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